


Fire, Honey and Razorblades

by allofuswithwings



Series: Kept [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofuswithwings/pseuds/allofuswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is trying to do some repair work on the Tardis but the Master won't stop pestering him.  To stop him, the Doctor does something that surprises both of them, and finds out the Master has some unusual tastes.</p>
<p>Canon divergence, where the Master wasn't shot and instead has been kept by the Doctor aboard the Tardis as a prisoner.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>
  <i>"Just stop it, okay?” the Doctor said.  “You don’t know me anymore, or what I’m capable of.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The Master raised an eyebrow, bringing his face close to the Doctor’s.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Ooh is that a threat, Doctor?” he asked.  “I’d like to see what you’ve got in you.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire, Honey and Razorblades

**Author's Note:**

> Some dumb shit I wrote a really long time ago for A Teaspoon and an Open Mind.

 ~*~

 

The Doctor winced and pulled his hand back as the Tardis sparked and shocked him. He swore to himself in Galifreyan and scowled as he heard a chuckle from behind him on the flight seat.

“I told you, you should let me fix it,” the Master boasted. “I’m much more of an expert at these things than you. Well, just like with everything else really.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and turned his head to give him a withering look. The Master sat smugly with his arms folded and feet propped up on a nearby railing.

“Just bypass the dampeners and wire it straight into the conductor,” he instructed. “Then it will stop being so haphazard in your landing. You might actually end up in the place and time that you meant to, for a change.”

The Doctor snorted and continued to fiddle with the wiring under one of the floor gratings.

“Yes, that, or short out the entire time regulator and end up lodged between two time periods,” he informed him. “No thanks.”

The Master scoffed dismissively, and rolled his eyes at the Doctor in return. He stood up off the flight seat and circled around the control column, planting his feet heavily on separate pieces of grating to make as much noise as possible. He heard the Doctor grunt in irritation and grinned gleefully, triumphant.

“Could you be anymore annoying?” the Doctor called from below.

The Master laughed and nodded. He began to drum his fingers loudly on the edge of the console, continuing to loop around and around the central column as he did so. The Doctor let out another exasperated sigh and poked his head out, climbing halfway out the hole.

“Stop it,” he grumbled.

The Master ignored him, and instead winked and turned his pacing into a leaping dance around the centre. The Doctor glared at him, and climbed the rest of the way out.

“I mean it, stop it now,” he snapped.

He reached out and grabbed the Master’s arm as he swung past, wrenching him inwards to stop him. The Master stumbled to a stop but continued drumming his fingers on the console next to the Doctor.

“Or you’ll do what?” he challenged. “I’m already a prisoner, and you’ve never really been one for torture.”

He smiled wickedly at the Doctor, still tapping. Trapped in the Tardis, the drumming seemed to bother him more than it ever did back on Earth, and as a result the Master felt restless and even more mad than usual. And the Doctor as his only company didn’t help.

The man was so moralising and boring that he could never talk to him about anything without there being a lecture in there somewhere. He didn’t understand how the Doctor’s companions could stand it. Then again, they probably didn’t want to conquer the universe and be the god of time. Both of which, the Doctor objected to him doing. He was just no fun.

“Just stop it, okay?” the Doctor said. “You don’t know me anymore, or what I’m capable of.”

The Master raised an eyebrow, bringing his face close to the Doctor’s.

“Ooh is that a threat, Doctor?” he asked. “I’d like to see what you’ve got in you.”

The Doctor scowled at him again, trying to still the Master’s thudding fingers with his hand. The Master snatched his hand away and placed his fingers at the side of the Doctor’s head, beginning his tapping there.

“It’s maddening, isn’t it?” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the Doctor’s. “Never ending.”

The Doctor grabbed hold of the Master’s hand again, staring straight back at him.

“Stop,” he warned.

“Make me,” the Master dared him.

He expected the Doctor to hit him across the face or throw him to the floor, but what he did instead truly shocked him. The Doctor grabbed him by the face with both hands and pressed a hard kiss onto his lips, causing him to stagger back a little. The shallow, fervent kiss only lasted a few seconds, with the Doctor suddenly pulling away, breathing hard and looking equally dumbfounded.

The Master stared at him, perplexed.

“What the _hell_ was that??” he asked.

The Doctor shook his head slowly, brow furrowed and mouth open. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, glancing over at the Master.

“I…” he started. “I don’t know…”

The Master started chuckling to himself, shaking his head.

“Well I know you asked me on a date before, but I didn’t think you were serious,” he mocked. “Thought you were more of a ladies’ man.”

The Doctor glared at him, still unable to fathom what he had done, or string together any length of a sentence to explain it.

“Although, I have to admit, you are a good kisser,” the Master continued. “I’ll have to have a bit more tongue next time to see if you’re actually better than my lovely Lucy.”

The Doctor choked and stared at him incredulously.

“ _Next time??_ ” he spluttered, his voice raised in pitch. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

The Master raised an eyebrow and half grinned, stepping closer to him. The Doctor backed away.

“You started it. You obviously wanted to kiss me,” the Master pointed out. “I suppose I am rather good-looking this regeneration around. And so are you, you know.”

The Doctor had backed up against the control column, the Master advancing on him and standing in his way so he could not escape.

“I am not. And you’re not,” the Doctor stuttered. “And we’re not even going to talk about this, it’s mad!”

The Master gave him another wicked smile, tilting his head a little and moving his face closer to the Doctor’s.

“There’s just the two of us now. You said it. Something about that turns you on,” he murmured. “I’m intrigued to find out why.”

“Stop this. Just stop it. Get away from me,” the Doctor snapped.

He struggled to push past the Master but he wouldn’t let him.

“Why? What are you scared of?” the Master taunted. “That you want me?”

“Shut up. Just shut up,” the Doctor retorted.

“You’ll have to make me shut up again, so that’ll be another kiss,” the Master sneered. “Or there is something else you could use to shut me up. About the right size, fits perfectly into my mouth – ”

“Rassilon!” the Doctor yelped, his eyes wide.

The Master grinned at him again, enjoying the pink hue that crept onto the Doctor’s cheeks at this.

“Oh you’re blushing, Doctor,” he said gleefully.

“I should think so!” the Doctor replied, flustered.

He finally managed to squeeze past the Master, running his hands through his air anxiously, his brow still furrowed. He licked his lips nervously as he made his way back down to the hole in the Tardis floor. The Master rolled his eyes again and followed the Doctor with slow steps.

“You’re such an old prude now,” he complained. “I would’ve thought this new, vigorous body of yours would charge you up with hormones. It did me. Makes me see everything in a new light. Everyone.”

The Doctor looked up at him at this, startled by the fire behind those eyes burning for him. He swallowed and looked away, delving further down into the crevices of the Tardis to fiddle with wires and re-route power. He heard the Master sit down on the grating above him, and then watched his shadow hang over a large section of cables as he laid out, stretching.

“You were right, everything is different now, with you and I the only two Time Lords in existence. It changes things. Of course I still want to rule the universe though,” he said thoughtfully, and heard the Doctor grunt in response. “But it makes me want things I never have before. Because we’re alone. There’s no-one else left. It makes me hurt, and need. Like you do.”

The Doctor tried to concentrate on stripping the purple wires he currently had in his hands, but he found himself shaking and his hands becoming slippery with sweat. He threw it down in annoyance and paced over, sitting down on the steps leading out of the hole.

“I don’t know what I want. I thought I was the only one left. Its been that way for so long now, I wasn’t ready when I found out you were still alive,” the Doctor admitted, rubbing his face with his hands. “I’m still not ready, I don’t know what to do. With you, I mean.”

The Master lay on his back, staring at the Tardis ceiling, listening to the Doctor ramble on. It was strange, this situation they were in. There was such rivalry and hatred in their past, but now there was this bond they shared being the last of their kind. He felt torn between the horrid, bitter taste thinking of the kind of man the Doctor was, and the aching hunger to know completely the only other Time Lord in existence. He wasn’t used to this, feeling out of control. It irritated him.

“When I finally ended it, the Time War, there was nothing but emptiness. Complete and utter, desolate blackness stretching out for all eternity. And me there right on the edge of it, looking out,” the Doctor continued, his tone hollow. “I’d done it so I had to live on with it. The weight and bleakness of destroying millions of lives and crushing two mighty empires.”

The Master murmured in enjoyment at this, exhaling loudly and squirming on the grating above. He closed his eyes as a rush of chemicals suffused his body, and he found his hands fidgeting on his clothes. The Doctor made another disapproving noise.

“I can’t help it,” the Master said with a smile. “You know I like it when you talk dirty.”

“You just like death and destruction, and you’re jealous it wasn’t you that did it,” the Doctor replied, leaning back against the stairs to rest his head on it.

The Master chuckled.

“I am. You know me too well,” he murmured, grinning.

The Doctor was silent for a few moments, and the Master wondered what was going on in that head of his. He closed his eyes, concentrated and probed out with his mind.

“Hey,” the Doctor said in protest.

“You were being too quiet,” the Master explained. “Talk.”

The Doctor half-smiled, shaking his head.

“What do you want me to say?” he sighed.

The Master grinned, still staring at the ceiling.

“I rather liked what you were talking about just now. Destroying empires and slaughtering millions,” he replied. “That’s fun.”

The Doctor snorted, tilting his head round to look up at the Master. He was silent again, and the Master huffed.

“What?” the Doctor asked irritably.

“You want to say something but you won’t,” the Master said. “I can tell. What is it? Out with it. Now.”

The Doctor stared down at his feet, tapping on the solid metal below.

“Oh, it was just a question,” he replied flippantly. “It’s not important.”

“Yes it is because I want to know,” the Master said. “Tell me.”

It was an instruction, not pleading. The Doctor swallowed and sat up a little.

“All that death and mayhem stuff…does it…I mean, do you…” he struggled. “Does it really turn you on?”

The Master grinned to himself triumphantly. He rolled over onto his stomach and stared at the Doctor through the floor gratings, his eyes fiery. His fingers crept through the gaps, gripping the metal.

“Why don’t you find out?” he asked, his tone heavy. “Talk to me.”

The Doctor swallowed again, unable to take his eyes off the Master’s own. His gut was telling him this was all wrong; he hated genocide, torture and war. But those were the things the Master loved, and something inside him wanted to push those buttons to see what happened.

“Well I can talk to you about the Daleks because they deserved to die, but I won’t tell you about the Time Lords,” the Doctor said slowly.

The Master just shrugged. The Doctor stared up through the hole at the Tardis ceiling, his expression distant.

“I killed them. I killed them all. Brought their entire army to its knees. Burning, screaming, running, begging me to stop,” he murmured. “But I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not once it started. The power overtook me.”

The Master writhed on the grating above, breathing deeply as he listened to the Doctor’s words. Blood pounded in his ears, his eyes heavy, and his fingers squeezed harder at the metal below him. He could feel all the hormones rushing throughout his body, electrifying his skin and making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

“Once I had it, the power to destroy, I couldn’t control it. I just slaughtered and mutilated and incinerated everything,” the Doctor continued. “I could hear them all in my head, screaming, screeching, howling and dying. Whole ships, whole worlds and whole armies on fire because of me.”

The Master bit his lip, letting out a soft groan, startling the Doctor, who looked up at him again. He pressed his hips against the grating, also pushing on the hard yearning that had begun between his legs. The Doctor’s eyes trailed down to it, his eyebrows arching at the effect his words were having.

“More, Doctor,” the Master breathed. “It feels good.”

He turned over onto his back, his hands grasping at the grating by his sides and his body writhing from the stimulation.

“I could see them too, each and every Dalek on every ship through every time, burning inside their hard, metal prisons. They tried to escape but I’d follow them, hunting them down and crushing them while they begged for mercy,” the Doctor said, his mouth dry. “The power made me sick inside, it squeezed and drilled in my head, and made my body ache. But it filled every part of me and made me want it, the power, forever. To be able to kill and crush and annihilate whole civilisations on a whim.”

The Master exhaled heavily, his eyelids fluttering, and his back arching up as he listened. His fingers grasped at the grating and trailed up to run over his body, hands desperate and wanting to touch and be touched. The lump that had been building in his trousers now strained to escape, throbbing with every word that fell from the Doctor’s lips.

The Doctor fell silent, mesmerised by the effect he was having on the Master. He watched the sweat gathering on the other man’s brow and the pink hue that flushed his cheeks as he writhed in pleasure. His teeth still bit into his lip, and the Doctor wondered if he would draw blood if he didn’t stop soon. Maybe he wanted to.

The Doctor sat up, pulling himself half out of the hole, his brow furrowed and eyes fixed on the Master. The Master noted his silence and opened his eyes. He twisted around and hauled himself abruptly over right next to the Doctor, bringing his face close. He grabbed the Doctor by the tie and yanked him closer, lips almost touching.

“Don’t stop,” he growled.

He then kissed the Doctor roughly, choking him by his tie and prying his lips apart to slip his tongue inside. He smiled a little as the Doctor groaned from the sensation, and kissed him harder, his tongue deep and brutal. He felt the Doctor gasping for breath but refused to break the kiss, tasting every last part of his mouth and toying with his tongue.

When he finally pulled away, the Doctor clawed at his tie and staggered back, breathing hard. He stared at the Master a moment and then clambered out of the hole. The Master too stood up and advanced on the Doctor, backing him up against the central column, startling him a little.

“I said, don’t stop,” he grunted, his eyes dancing over the Doctor’s face, watching his expressions.

The Doctor stared at him wide-eyed, mouth open and breathing hard.

“I-I don’t know what else to say,” he stammered. “That’s all I can think of.”

The Master grabbed hold of his hands and pressed them to his temples.

“Then show me, let me feel, see and hear everything,” he murmured. “I want to know what it was like for you.”

The Doctor swallowed but closed his eyes, concentrating. He took a sharp breath in as he felt the Master slam into his mind, prickly and uncomfortable. He felt him searching, pulling, tearing for the memories and the Doctor quickly thrust them forward for him to see. He winced as he relived the scenes of the Time War, so much death and pain and emptiness.

But he could feel the Master revelling in it, his mind twisting and glowing at all the horror and destruction he experienced. The Doctor felt the Master’s head and body buzzing and lurching in pleasure, his breath ragged and hearts racing, evidently stimulated by what he found in the Doctor’s head.

The Doctor cried out as it all came rushing back again; the agony, the screaming, the killing and the devastation. He felt sick as the feelings flooded through him and images seared his mind once more, the Master pressing him up against the central column, his erection digging into the Doctor’s hip. His own tortured cries were joined by the Master’s voice, moaning and groaning in ecstasy as he explored the dark, terrible memories.

One of the Master’s hands dropped from his own and began fiddling at his own fly. It then trailed back up to grab the Doctor’s hand and push it down inside his trousers, against the tender skin of the Master’s erection. He let out another pleasured groan at this, and captured the Doctor’s mouth again, kissing him hard.

The Doctor let his hand spread out, taking hold of him, his head still aching from the dredging up of these old, painful memories. The Master was still in there, rifling through and absorbing all the horror, but the pain was now masked a little by the Master’s own enjoyment. As the Doctor touched him, he felt a heavy warmth spreading out thickly in his head, numbing the hurt and leaving a hot, pleasant vibration in its wake.

The Master’s kisses were harsh and biting, but somehow they too were satisfying, taking him over and making him feel wanted. The Doctor felt him twitching and driving into his hands, his motions now more erratic as he approached the edge. He could feel the Master shuddering in his head too, fumbling through memories and grasping at images desperately to soak up more stimulation.

The burst into his hands came first as the Master hit orgasm, swiftly followed by a blinding light in his head and the sounds of the Master calling his name. The Doctor reeled, his knees buckling, at the dazzling blue sparks that blasted his mind, slicing through to his core and making him tremble. The thick, warm sensation followed, spreading out into every corner of his head, and the Doctor felt his eyes rolls back and let out a sigh of pleasure.

When he opened his eyes again, he found the Master watching him, his gaze heavy and satisfied. A smug smile twitched on his lips, and he leaned forward, giving the Doctor a long, slow kiss on the mouth. When they broke apart, the Doctor just stared back at him, a bit bewildered.

“I thought I was the only one that enjoyed that, but apparently not,” the Master grinned.

“I’d forgotten…” the Doctor began.

“About telepathic orgasms?” the Master offered. “Oh, yes, they’re the best fun.”

He grinned madly and the Doctor couldn’t help the small smile that played on his lips. He then extricated his hand from the Master’s trousers, making a face at the mess. The Master shrugged, taking clean wipes that the Doctor offered him to tidy himself up.

“In some ways, we’re so much like your beloved humans,” he chuckled. “Still make a right fucking mess when overstimulated.”

The Doctor grinned wryly at him before turning back to the central column of the Tardis to continue his work from earlier. The Master zipped up his trousers and watched the Doctor for a moment, an eyebrow raised.

“So does this mean you’re going to let me go sometime soon?” the Master asked.

The Doctor looked over at him, raising an eyebrow back.

“Don’t hold your breath,” he replied with a smile.


End file.
